Pink Wine and Prejudice
by You-drive-me-nuts-miller
Summary: Jessica Day is 32 and permanently single. Will she ever meet Mr. Right? Or Mr Anyone for that matter? (New Girl meets Bridget Jone's Diary AU)
1. December 26th

_From a prompt by little-nicky-miller on Tumblr_

It was my 32nd year of being single. The 32nd holiday season I had spent alone: the uncoupled one at the Christmas table - the one with no one to kiss when the clock struck 12 on New Year's Eve. Okay, so maybe that's a slight exaggeration. I'd dated of course. Yes, there had been boyfriends that were around during the holidays (memories of Spencer's macrobiotic Christmas dinner still haunted me). Still, officially, I was a spinster - I'd never had that commitment, that – well, _ring_.

My mom's turkey curry buffet was not my first choice of venue to spend the 26th – my head was still pounding somewhat from Christmas Day drinks with my only remaining single friend, Cece. But the sad truth was an afternoon surrounded by relatives who constantly asked when I was getting married and called me, 'the poor single one', was actually superior to any other option I realistically had.

So that afternoon I lurked in the corner of my mom's living room, between the thick velvet curtains and the alcohol cabinet, with a cool glass of rose. Here I was able to become quietly tipsy without listening to the usual questions and platitudes given to any single girl in her thirties on these occasions, 'are you dating anyone?', 'they will come along when you least expect it' or 'don't worry, my cousin/neighbor/friend had kids when she was 40'. Not helpful.

Sipping my wine, I watched with amusement as my Uncle Artie tried to drunkenly grope Mrs. Ryerson from across the street (and her shooing him away before finally giving him a swift kick to the balls after he didn't take the hint) when I heard my mom calling my name, "Oh Jess, Jess, come here darling!"

Groaning, I pulled a tight smile on my face and sighed deeply. My mom was great, really – but I knew she was scheming something. Ever since I had gotten ready and she had made me change out of my preferred black flats, pantyhose and sweater combo into a tight, red dress ('It's the holidays,' she'd said, 'You won't have that figure forever') I knew there was an ulterior motive.

Reluctantly I headed towards her, smoothing the thick red material over my hips as I walked. "Jess," my mom said, grabbing my hand, "You remember Mrs. Miller?" She pointed to a greying, middle-aged woman who stood a few feet away.

"Um, well-"

"Jessica," the other woman said warmly, "I've not seen you in years."

I giggled nervously as Mrs. Miller pulled me into a hug.

"Jess, you remember, the Millers were our neighbors when you were in elementary school. Before they moved to Chicago?"

With dawning realization, memories started to seep into my conscious mind.

"Oh," I began, "Umm ... You lived next door?"

"That's right," the other lady smiled softly, "We moved in '86 - I always missed this place."

Memories of cold glasses of lemonade and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches around the only pool in the neighborhood resurfaced.

"Didn't you have a-"

"A son," my mom interrupted, giving me a raised eyebrow look, "Nick – remember? You used to swim naked in his pool as a kid."

"Well I don't remember that part," I blushed furiously, turning the same crimson color as my dress.

"And," my mom said in an excited whisper, "Guess what? He lives in LA."

_So that was who she was trying to set me up with. _My chest heaved a little. Memories of the last three guys my mother had tried to get me to date resurfaced and I felt a shiver run down my spine. Mike the orthodontist who spat every time he talked; Sam - who worked with my mom and spent the entire date talking about his pet cat; and Jerry, who at 38 still lived in his parents basement. _No thanks, Mom._

"Small world," I replied through a tight lipped smile.

"Look," Mrs. Miller said, pointing across the room, "There's my son – by the drinks, as per usual."

I followed her gaze and was met with the sight of a tallish, dark haired man. His back was to me but I could see through his plaid shirt that he had broad shoulders. He wore dark blue jeans that showed off what looked like a pretty cute butt. I smiled a little. Maybe this party won't be so bad after all…

"Nick, Nick," called my mom.

He turned around and I took in a deep breath as I saw his dark eyes and stubbled skin – my stomach hitched a little. He was just my type. Sort of like a dirty sailor, dark and rumpled and a little crinkly around the edges. Definitely a good start. Yes, the front is as good as the back.

"Who's this?" he asked abruptly as he reached our little group, taking a quick swig from a brown beer bottle.

"It's Jess, my daughter - remember?" my mom prodded.

"Hmm," he grunted, pulling down the corners of his mouth into an extreme frown – like a grumpy turtle. He glanced up and down my body slowly. It felt like he was mentally undressing me and I crossed my arms a little as if to protect myself from his gaze. "Jess," he nodded. "From next door? Sorry, don't remember." He cooly took another drink from his beer as I felt a hot flush of embarrassment.

"You both live in LA," continued Mrs. Miller, "Isn't that a coincidence?"

He shrugged his shoulders a little and rolled his lips between his teeth, "It's a big city - right, Jen?"

He looked straight at me with his silky brown eyes and I felt indignant and annoyed. He was proving every that I thought about men to be true - they were either weirdo's, jerks or worse - both.

"Jess," I replied sharply, "And yes, thankfully LA is a _very large_ city." I sank back the rest of my glass of wine and made to leave, "Nice to meet you, Mick."

"Nick," he corrected in a ridiculously low and gravelly voice which did strange things to my stomach.

"Whatever," I smiled.

* * *

I was back in my corner a few minutes later, brooding over a fresh glass of wine, when I saw him appear at the table to my left and reach for another beer. I sank further back into the soft folds of the curtain; I couldn't be seen but could still hear.

"Mom, I told you to stop setting me up!"

"What? What do you mean?" I heard the soft voice of Mrs. Miller protesting her innocence.

"You know exactly what I mean. That girl? Jess? Really?"

"Nicky, it's been almost a year since you and Caroline…Jess is pretty and single and lives in the same city as you-"

I heard him sigh heavily, "Yes mom, it has been a while but I don't need setting up with some desperate, ex-neighbor who wears slutty dresses to her mom's holiday party."

At that moment, I felt my glass slip through my hands in shock, bouncing on the carpet and rolling towards him – how dare he? Seconds later, the curtain was pulled back and Nick Miller's face appeared inches from my own.

"Um, oh-" he stuttered for words, his brow creased. "Jessica," he mumbled, his face turning a pinkish red shade.

"Oh, don't mind me - just here minding my own business. So nice to meet you, Nick - but now my _slutty_ dress and I are going to the kitchen to crack open another bottle of wine."

And with that, I picked up my fallen glass, straightened myself up and did my best tall headed walk out of the room.

"Mrs. Miller," I nodded and smiled as I walked away, happily watching her sharply dig her elbow into her son's side.

_Men_, I thought, _why do I bother_?


	2. Sixteen Hours

**A/N - So for this chapter I've had to veer slightly away from canon (Bridget Jones that is!) for reasons that will become clear! I will be moving back to the familiar storyline next chapter :)**

The creaking, hot fingers of a hangover dug into my brain as I hugged my pillow. _Five more minutes, _I told myself as the dull morning sun started to peek over the horizon. _Five more minutes and I will get up…_

The peace was broken by sound of knocking at the door of my childhood bedroom. "Jess honey, it's seven am, you need to leave soon."

The door edged open, letting a shaft of light pour into the room. I forced myself to sit up, rubbing the gritty tiredness from my eyes. "Morning, Mom," I yawned, wincing as the brightness intensified the banging ache in my head.

My mother made her way to the bed and sat by my legs, patting my left foot with one hand, "So I take it you and Cece had fun last night?"

"Yeah," I replied though a strained smile, "We did." I reached for the glass of water that I had sensibly placed on the bedside table, hungrily gulping the cool liquid back, small streams running down my throat before I wiped them away with the back of my hand. "Urgh. I'm so glad I packed last night. I hate packing before a trip."

"I do not understand why you don't just fly…"

"Mom," I sighed, "I've told you, I like the drive." Reaching forward, I kissed my mother on the cheek. "Okay, I need to shower and get on the road."

Slipping my feet to the floor, I quickly stood until mom grasped my arm and I turned to face her. "I have a favor to ask."

Suspicious, I narrowed my eyes, "What?" I replied flatly.

"Well, Mrs. Miller called and-"

"No," I shook my head.

"But I haven't even finished-"Mom protested.

Grabbing my robe, I knotted it at the waist. "I can see where this is going and no. Stop it Mother. Stop trying to set me up."

"Look Jessica, I'm sorry about the other day. You can't blame a mother for trying. I worry about you! But Nick missed his flight last night and they are all full for the next two days, and since you're driving anyway…"

I ran my hand through my messy, tatted bed hair as I looked at my mom's pleading eyes.

"Please Jess, do me this favor. Mrs. Miller was always such a good neighbor and now she's back in the city…" her voice trailed off and she shrugged her shoulders.

"You know what, fine Mom. But you owe me." With that, I turned on my heel and left the room.

* * *

Pulling up outside the Miller's new house, three blocks away, I pushed the car into neutral and balled my hands together, blowing my hot breath onto my cold, icy fingers. I only had to wait for a few minutes before a figure appeared at the driver's window, tapping on it rapidly. I rolled down the window of the Volvo without looking at him.

"Trunk's open," I yawned.

I heard him pop the lock and the sound of a bag being heaved inside. Then footsteps scraped along the frosty winter road until the door opposite me opened and he slid inside, instantly shifting the equilibrium of the car.

"Morning," he croaked. _Guess I wasn't the only one who had a good time last night. _I glanced over at him. He had a brown wool hat pulled tightly down over his head, covering his eyebrows. This face bore the evidence of a week without the attention of a razor and his shadowy eyes were rimmed the red color of lack of sleep. "Hey, thanks for the ride."

I turned to look at him more closely. His shirt was rumpled, and his coat was patched with silver duct tape (seriously?). From him emanated the pungent scent of stale beer and unwashed skin. My nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Thank your mom," I replied flippantly as I turned the key in the engine.

"Right, so that's how it is…" he said as he pulled off his jacket and fastened the seatbelt across his waist.

"Yep. This is purely a business agreement." I glanced to my right at him, his sharp profile highlighted against the cool, winter morning light. "And seriously, couldn't you have showered?"

"I showered yesterday," he retorted.

I let out a frustrated grunt. "Whatever. Just keep to your side of the car please. When it's your turn to drive, I'll let you know."

"That works for me," he replied as he pulled his hat over his eyes and propped his legs up on the dash.

"Men," I muttered under my breath, as I pressed the accelerator and made for the freeway.

* * *

His rattling snoring was jarring. I'd poked and prodded him for the past thirty minutes as we made our way down the coast, but his gruff breathing still continued unabated. Finally, exasperated, I reached over and jabbed a sharp elbow into the soft spot below his ribs.

"Wake up!"

Violently, he roused himself, sharply twisting in the seat and becoming entangled in the seatbelt. "What the-"

"You were snoring. Loudly." I spat out the words, annoyed that my peaceful ride home was being invaded. "I mean, how do you even sleep like that in the middle of the day?"

"I work in a bar – late nights."

_Huh, figures, _I told myself. _He seems the drunken bartender type._ I glanced at him in the mirror, watching as his hand ran over the layer of scruff on his cheeks. "Hey, what time is it?"

I pushed back the sleeve of my sweater. Wow, it was already one pm. How had I driven so long without a break? "It's late. Let's stop for lunch and you can take over."

"Okay," he agreed. He was being annoyingly agreeable and nice (well, apart from the body odor and snoring) which was making it very hard for my intense dislike to brew.

"Fine," I replied, somewhat pointedly, as I took the ramp for the nearest rest stop.

* * *

It was dark when a loud thud rattled through the car and shook me awake. "What was that?" I asked, shaking the tiredness from my head.

"I'm not sure…"Nick mumbled in reply as he began to pull over to the side of the freeway. The car began to lurch slightly to the right, tilting my body against the door.

After pulling over, I stepped out into the frigid night air and used the flashlight on my phone to inspect the car for damage. It was immediately apparent what the problem was.

"Flat," I said, dejectedly. But not just a flat, the tire was blown out – the rubber tattered and torn.

"Oh," he sighed when he saw the damage.

"You got a spare?" he asked. I shook my head. "Triple A?" I shook my head again. "Alright, then let's find a mechanic."

"Nick, it's seven at night and we're in the middle of nowhere-"

"Actually, we're about an hour from Fresno-"

"Whatever. What I mean is where will we find a mechanic now?"

We both looked at each other as cars buzzed past on the highway behind us. I dragged my toe along the tarmac, kicking the small pebbles that came lose.

"Look, there was a motel sign a couple of minutes back, let's hike up there, get a number – we will be on the road before you know it."

I took a deep breath and looked from side to side, "Fine, let's get a move on."

* * *

"Okay, Mike is going to pick up your car tonight; you can get it first thing in the morning." The middle aged woman behind the desk at the Palm View Inn wore her spectacles perched on the tip of her nose, as she spoke it wrinkled a little causing them to dart up and down.

"No," I said, shaking my head and spreading out my hands on the chipped wooden surface, "No, that's not going to work for us. We need to be in LA tonight."

Marion (so her name tag told us) simply shrugged her shoulders. "Only mechanic for fifty miles."

"It's fine," Nick said stepping forward and giving the woman a warm smile, "You've been such a big help. We really appreciate it." He turned and gave me a pointed look.

I rolled my eyes at him before turning back to Marion, "So I guess we are going to need a couple of rooms for the night." I opened up my purse and slid out my Amex, "You can charge mine to this."

Marion chuckled and pointed to the rows of brass hooks behind the desk, "Dearie – only got one room available. It's holiday season don't you know!"

Sure enough, only one silver key with an oversized red plastic key ring remained. Beside me Nick began to snicker. "As if my day couldn't get any worse," I muttered under my breath. "At least tell me it's a room with two beds."

"Sorry, it's a King. But I can put a fold out in there for you, I mean, if that's what you and your boyfriend want-"

"He is not my boyfriend!" I replied hotly. Defeated, I pushed my card across the desk, "We'll take it."

* * *

Room 107 was a bare, bland typical rest stop room. Cheap curtains and carpet with dubious stains lined it, lit by the dim glow of low wattage bulbs. After the roll out cot and our luggage were added to the room, there was little space left.

When I reached the bed I pulled away the aging bedspread and tossed it into the corner (not wanting to think about what mysteries it held) as Nick sat on the cot and began to pull items from his bag. Grabbing the remote control I flicked on the TV and began to cycle through the channels.

"I'm going to shower," he said as he stood up.

"Huh?" I replied, confused.

"Apparently I need one," he retorted with a wink.

By the time he was done, I'd made some space in the room by moving the beds and had unpacked a spare set of clothes. Feeling hungry, I'd found a pizza menu by the phone and had ordered up a large pepperoni –delivery promised in thirty minutes or less. Pity they couldn't do the same for a blown out tire.

He stepped into the room in a thick cloud of steam. He'd dressed in fresh clothes (another flannel), but his shirt was left untucked and fastened only by two or three buttons. The deep v it created showed a swathe of thick, black hair covering his chest – still damp from the shower. In fact all of him was still damp – hell, wet. His shirt clung to his skin by the pull of moisture. Trails of water trickled down his face as his dark hair began to curl as it dried.

I must have been staring?

"Are you okay Jessica?"

Damn.

"Huh?" I shook myself from my thoughts. "Um, no. Just thinking." He stared at me and I felt my cheeks glow hot.

I was saved by a quick knocking at the door.

"Oh, that's dinner." I grabbed my purse and headed to the door, pulling out a ten dollar bill and thanking the delivery guy. As I turned back to the room I noticed Nick staring at the pile of clothes I had laid out for the next morning.

"Are they- Do you- Jessica," he said, looking up at me, "Are those days of the week underpants?"

Angrily, I grabbed the pile of clothes and shoved them under my pillow, "Damn Miller, where is your sense of privacy and personal boundaries?"

He chuckled as he pulled open the pizza box. "Sorry, I just though they stopped making those once you got to like, age eight." He silenced himself with a steaming slice of pepperoni.

"Well they don't," I added tartly as I sat and took a slice of my own.

We ate in silence with an old episode of CSI playing in the background. He was so noisy when he ate – taking huge bites, chewing with his mouth open, licking his fingers-

"Can you try and be a bit more civilized?" I asked.

He finished chewing the slice as he rubbed his hands on his jeans, "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot this was fine dining here."

"Urgh," I groaned, shaking my head and turning to the TV, just in time to see a decomposing body fall out of a closet, "Eww."

A few more minutes passed and I almost forgot he was there.

"So, what do you do?"

"Why do you want to know?" I replied.

"Just trying to make conversation…"

I finished my slice and wiped my hands on a napkin. "I'm a teacher. Middle school."

His reflection nodded in the TV. "Wow, that must be tough. Rewarding, but tough."

"Yeah, it is tough. But I love it." I turned so I was facing him. He was almost dry now, and sober. I hated to admit it but he did look good. Pity he was such a jerk…

"What made you do that – teach I mean?"

I reached down and pulled off my boots, flexing my aching toes as they enjoyed their freedom. "It's all I ever wanted to do –since I was a kid. It was my dream."

His eyes became a little vacant and he seemed lost in thought, "You're lucky you always knew what you wanted to do."

"What?" I asked in mock horror, "You didn't always want to be a bartender?" I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes and winced, "Sorry."

"No," he sighed, "Bar tending was not how I thought my life would go. I went to college, and two thirds of law school, but nothing ever stuck," he started to fidget with the brown leather strap of his watch.

"Well, it's never too late you know."

"Maybe," he replied, before we both fell once more into silence and shifted to watch the small, crackling TV.

* * *

Rinsing out my mouth, I popped my toothbrush back into my toiletry bag and pulled on my glasses. After three episodes of CSI I was tired and my brain had had its fill of dead bodies and procedural drama.

"Goodnight," I yawned as I slipped back into the room.

He was sitting with his back to me. I watched as he pulled off his shirt, over his head. His broad back flexed. I was staring again.

Suddenly he turned and I pulled on a quick smile. "'Night." His eyes flashed up and down me. "Nice pajamas." My cheeks reddened. I looked down at my blue and pink striped shirt and pants – oversized and comfy. Was he serious or joking? Part of me didn't want to know. Just wanted this night over with.

I flicked off the bedside light.

The air was still; punctuated by the sounds of breathing and the low hum of traffic noise in the distance. I starfished out in the bed, it was stiff but still comfortable after the hours cramped in the car.

On the floor I could hear the squeak of the sprung mattress of the cot. Once. Twice. Three times.

"Are you okay?" I finally asked.

"Fine." He replied.

I head the mattress groan again as he moved.

"You don't sound fine."

He sighed.

Finally, I sat up. "Look, I need to sleep and I am not going to be able to do that with you making a racket all night. This bed's plenty big enough for two."

"You sure?" he asked, his voice disembodied in the darkness.

"Quick, before I change my mind." I pulled back the thick comforter and scooted to the left of the bed. I heard him stand before his shadowy figure slipped in beside me. I tried to ignore the fact that he was only wearing boxer briefs. I turned to face him.

"This is my side. That is yours. No funny businesses."

"I wouldn't dream of it, ma'am," he chuckled.

I tried to sleep.

The heat of his body was distracting. Although he was about three feet away I could feel it as though his skin touched mine. I tugged at the neck of my shirt, poking one leg out from under the comforter, trying to cool myself. Finally, slowly, sleep came...

* * *

I was falling. I didn't know how it began, or where I was, but all I was aware of was the sickening feel as my stomach leapt upwards and the air rushed by me.

I started. Vaguely, I became aware of a heavy weight over my body as I lay on my side. Shifting a little, I pried open my eyes and looked down. One large, unfamiliar arm, lay hooked around me. Even worse, I realized my back was now pressed against his body, _Nick's:_ my butt backed up against his crotch. A cool wave flashed through me. How the hell did we end up like this?

I tried to wriggle away a little, but his arm held tight. "Shhh," he hushed. Was he aware he was spooning me right now? Crap.

After another few minutes of struggling I finally conceded defeat. Relaxing, I let my body slide back against his, his arm scooping under my waist as I did so.

Okay, so this was weird, but I had to admit, kinda nice. It'd been a while since I just slept in a bed with a guy, spooning, snuggling… I missed it. I'd never admit this to him but maybe for just the night I could pretend that this wasn't some ex-childhood neighbour who ticked me off, but a handsome, mysterious stranger who slipped into my bed at night…

I listened to his soft breathing as it tickled my neck, enjoying the feel of his weight against mine, the feel of being wrapped in someone's arms. Yes, I'd pretend for tonight. He'd do.

By morning, I was rolled on my stomach and alone. I heard sounds from the bathroom. _Nick. Did he-_

I didn't have time to ponder as he appeared once more, same flannel, different jeans. "Morning," he nodded, in a clipped tone.

"Morning."

"Sleep well?" he asked. Was that- did I see a glint of something in his eye? A shift in his tone?

"Uh-um, not bad," I replied.

"Cool. Come on, let's get your car and get out of here."

I stood and straightened my pajamas, "Sure, just give me ten minutes."

I stepped past him and closed the door, lying back against it once inside.

_Did he know? Was he asleep the whole time?_

Whatever the case, I wasn't about to ask. If he had said anything, I would have lied, said I was asleep anyway. I picked up my hairbrush and began to run it through my hair. _C'mon Day, let's get back to LA so we can start forgetting this holiday disaster._

**_Reviews are always appreciated!_**


	3. Bad Boys

Work.

Work; that perpetual torture of the adult human. The place where one's soul is surrendered for the sliver of paper that is deposited every two weeks in our bank account.

Damnit.

After a joyous eight days respite from the daily grind, here I was, back at my desk, bright and kind of early on a Monday morning.

St. James hospital wasn't a bad place to work. I had been PA to the director for almost three years now, working nine to five, filing, scheduling meetings, typing… It was easy, but boring. It was one of those jobs you fell into after college.

I'd actually gotten a degree in education, crazy huh? Me, a teacher? Yeah, I know. But I'd found it impossible to find a job after graduation. So my good friend and Gynecologist Sadie hooked me up with a safe, reasonably well paid clerical position. And here I was ten years on. Hmmm, where had that gone?  
But I couldn't complain, at least I had a job.

My desk was situated outside the director's office on the top floor of the building. It was quiet, bright and clean. My only regular visitor was Tran, the hospital's mail clerk who would pass by with his mail cart three or four times a day.

"Hi Tran," I called as he made his first visit on the day. He smiled at me and handed over a stack of brown card files and a few narrow envelopes before continuing.

"Bye Tran."

He never talked. I wasn't actually sure if he could. With a sigh I pulled off the rubber band that held together the papers and opened the first file.

* * *

I was deep in the middle of a medical record transcript when I heard someone clear their throat. Looking up, I felt my mouth go dry.

_Hellloooooo doctor._

Or to be more precise, hello Dr. Sam… Resident hottie, all round beautiful, and gorgeous, Dr. Sam. The man whose smile had melted a million hearts, whose hair belonged in a shampoo commercial and who was just so damn attractive and tall and pretty…. Where was I?

Oh. Yeah. Also this happened to be Dr. Sam, the resident hospital cad. How many nurses and nursing assistants had he gone through in the past six months alone? Ten? Twelve? I'd lost count of the number of weeping women I'd seen holed up in the corner of the hospital restaurant with the following whisper in their wake; _he dumped her._

So I generally avoided Pediatrics where possible, but hey, it was okay to look, right?

"Is the boss man in?" he asked. His voice was low and silky and I felt my belly rumble a little.

"Um no, sorry," I gave him my best flirty smile and placed the pen I was holding between my lips, "In meetings all day."

"Aw shucks," was his reply. He had such gorgeous eyes. Soft brown with long, pretty eyelashes…

Next thing I knew, he was leaning on my desk; he was so close. Damn he smelled good - like soap and expensive cologne. The rumble inside me turned into more of a groan. "So, are you coming to the gala tomorrow night?"

"Yes, the benefit of being the PA to the director – I'm working it." I tilted my head to one side and licked my lips. This man was like sexual napalm, leaving vulnerable women in his wake, impossible not to flirt with.

"Gee, well I hope you aren't working all night…"

Shaking my head, "No?" I asked.

His hips did this thing as he leaned in closer; they shuffled a little from side to side, it was so… _sexual_. I thought I was going to choke.

"I was hoping we might get the chance to hang out."

Oh the way he said hang out - drawing out the vowels in the second word like he was caressing it with his tongue.

"That'd be nice," I replied meekly.

"Great." He flashed me a million dollar Hollywood smile and quickly straightened up. "See you then."

And he winked.

And then he was gone.

And I needed a cold glass of water…

* * *

My shoes hurt, Cece's dress was a little tight and all I wanted was a glass of wine. Instead I was following my boss around with a clipboard as he dashed about the hotel ballroom that was hosting the benefit - all in aid of a new gastric surgery unit.

"So Jessica, is everything in order for the speeches?"

Nodding I looked over my list, "Yes sir, we are due to start in thirty minutes, I have all the sound and lighting set up-"

"Good. Good. Now run along would you and get me a glass of wine would you?"

"Yes sir," I said through gritted teeth. Sometimes I felt more like a glorified maid than an assistant.

I pushed my way across the growing crowds until I got to the bar where slammed down my purse and clip board. "Two white wines and a vodka – straight up."

I slumped as the bartender got to work. I felt the tight pencil skirt of my borrowed dress begin to ride up and reached down to start pulling at the stretchy blue satin when-

"Well look who we have here-"

I stopped what I was doing and lifted my head. Him? Seriously? Who else would it be but Nick Miller. Nick Miller in a suit I may add. Okay a rumpled suit but still… His hair was a bit tidier and I even think he may have shaved. My stomach dropped a little as I thought back to that night in the motel… We hadn't spoken since getting back to LA and I still wasn't exactly sure what had happened.

"What are you doing here?" I asked without thinking.

"I'm on a date," he replied, before asking for a glass of bourbon on the rocks.

"Oh," I replied as we waited for out drinks, "I'm working."

We stood a little awkwardly until a tall, dark haired woman appeared at his side, hooking her arm into his.

"Sorry about that Nick, business."

"It's fine Julia –Hey, this is Jessica, we used to be neighbours up in Oregon."

The other woman reached out a thin hand and I took it. "Julia, nice to meet you."

"And you. Do you work in the hospital?" I didn't recognise her.

"Not exactly. I'm on the legal team from Burke and Riley."

_Ah_. The law department. "I'm Mr. Adam's PA." We shook hands. Mercifully then our drinks arrived.

"Well, I'd better get back to work," I smiled. "Busy busy," I finished by picking up the large shot of vodka and knocking it back in one go.

Walking away I felt strangely unsettled, as if seeing Nick again had done something to me. I scoffed – I was just surprised, our road trip had been weird and I hadn't expected to see him again. Yeah, that was it I told myself as I walked over with my two glasses of wine, trying desperately not to fall over in those ridiculously high heels.

* * *

Nine pm.

The speeches were over. I was a little drunk after three glasses of wine. My feet hurt more than ever – like they were being pricked by a thousand burning pins. But still no sign of Dr. Sam. I silently chastised myself for actually expecting him to be there.

Kicking off my shoes, I sank to sit at one of the white cloth lined tables that covered the ballroom. I reached down and began to run my thumb against my throbbing soles when I felt someone sit next to me.

"I have been looking for you everywhere."

First I saw long, tuxedo pant encased legs. My eyes followed their line to a well cut jacket hanging on a tall, broad frame topped with the most handsome face I had seen all night…

"Oh have you?" I asked. I lowered my voice a little (that's sexy, right?)

"Uh huh," he growled, shifting his chair closer 'til our knees met. "You intrigue me Jessica."

"I do?" I asked, a little confused.

His arm joined mine on the table and he began to walk his fingers slowly up its bare skin, "Yes, you hidden up there on the tenth floor, all mysterious, keeping to yourself. It's…" he paused before lowering his voice, "Sexy." I felt something inside me explode and all I wanted to do in that moment was jump into his lap and suck his face. Then do other stuff, of course. But-

"Oh hey Jessica-"

Yes, it was him, _Nick Miller,_ king of bad timing, total mystery and currently standing three feet to my left.

"Nick," I replied with a smile, "Can I help you?"

"Um," he seemed to pause as he saw Sam. His eyes narrowed and I swear I saw a vein begin to rise in his neck. I looked from man to man. Sam's expression was also tense, if also a little perplexed. "Oh, this is Sam, he works in Pediatrics."

"Nick," Sam finally said.

"Sam," Nick nodded.

I sat between them feeling awkward. "So do you two know each other?" This was weird.

"We go way back," Nick replied softly, not taking his eyes away from the other man.

"Way back," Sam echoed. He seemed to shift uncomfortably in his seat, the air thick with some kind of tension I didn't understand.

"So, you needed me-" I began. Nick quickly shook his head.

"Um, no it can wait. See you later Jessica." Then as quickly as he had arrived he was gone and we were alone again.

"Well that was weird," I said twisting back to look at the hottest man in the room. "Just exactly how do you know each other?"

Sam seemed to hesitate. His hand, still halfway up my arm, slipped down and wrapped around mine. Damn, it was so big…

"If I tell you this, could you keep it quiet, it's a little embarrassing." I nodded, feeling like I was being drawn into some kind of secret confidence. I leaned closer. "Nick, well he- he stole my fiancée."

I pulled back and sucked in a deep breath. "No!" I cried. Well, well, Nick Miller was full of surprises- and not so pleasant ones too.

"We were friends in college, pretty close, hung out in the same circle. My girlfriend, Caroline, well we met as freshman and got engaged after graduation. Bought a place together, life was good," he paused and closed his eyes; this was clearly hard for him. "One night I was supposed to be working and I came home early and found them having sex on the couch. They'd been having an affair for six months."

"On my God, you poor thing." Reaching over, I took hold of his other hand, "How terrible."

"Yeah…" he nodded. "Look, how about we get out of here – maybe some dinner, get to know each other. I'd really like to stay away from him."

I tossed the idea around in my head. I knew his reputation; I knew about all those other girls he had treated badly. But maybe they were wrong? This playboy image did not match up with this sensitive, hurt guy in front of me.  
"Sure, of course," I said, squeezing his hand, "Why not."

Then he gave me another devastating, wide mouthed smile and I knew I had made the right decision.

* * *

Two bottles of wine, six plates of tapas and two cab rides later and I had Dr. Sam in my apartment.

I pushed him into the living room as I ran about the place – dirty dishes were tossed into the nearest cupboard, a bunch of laundry was hidden inside the washer. The room was fuzzy but I managed to dig out two non-matching wine glasses and a half drunk bottle of rose. Clasping the stems of the glasses between my fingers I made my way back to him, pausing in the doorway.  
I tried to look sexy. I remembered a film where the main character had seduced her love interest with a bottle of wine. She had leaned against the door stop, the bottle swinging beside her, her shoulder pushed forward. Unfortunately, I misjudged and the next thing I knew I was flying forward landing head first into one very sexy doctors lap.

"Oh shit," I cried as I tried to pull myself up. "Sorry." He was so close I almost vomited. What the hell was I doing? Actually, how had we ended up back here? I didn't have much time to think as I felt his arms grab my waist and pull me into his lap as effortlessly as if I was a rag doll. _Oh my…_

"So, Miss Day, can I say, this has been a lot of fun…"

"A lot…" I added softly, moving closer to his lips. Damn, they were so big and soft and I just wanted them on mine.

"Would you like to continue having fun?" His hand was snaking around my waist now. Wordless I nodded. "Good," he finished with a smile.

Not a second passed and there he was kissing me. My body was so hot I felt like I was on fire-damn he was a good kisser. I understood his attractiveness even more: he was good.

Through the fog of alcohol I felt him unzip my dress and his hands dipped inside. I shivered. It had been far too long… Next thing I was in the air, my legs around his waist. I felt so small and light and girly and-

"Bedroom," I panted, pointing in the vague direction of my room. In reply he squeezed my butt and I felt my stomach drop.

Yes, this was most likely a very bad idea. But he was hot, I'd drank a lot of wine and I was feeling damned twirly, so, _yeah_… This was happening.

**Reviews make me smile rainbows ;) **


	4. Dirty Weekend

**Hello guys! Sooo sorry for my 'hiatus' (as I've decided to call it!) - life and other things kinda overwhelmed me there. But I'm back with a vengeance!**

One blissful month. Four sinful weeks. Twenty eight days of utterly, spine tinglingly, amazing sex.

One night had turned into two, then three and four… Until those evenings had turned into a divine blur of hot nakedness and dirty talk. His place, my place - the store room at work. Sure, it was a relationship based entirely on sex but I wasn't complaining. It was hot, seriously hot.

Did I tell you it was hot?

Admittedly I use the word 'relationship' rather loosely. We had steadfastly avoided any discussion of our status (okay, so it was more him than me doing the avoiding). When asked I said we were, 'dating, not serious'. Still I couldn't help but hear the notes of the wedding march chime louder in my mind with every extra day we spent together.

At least in my head, I was his girlfriend. I had a hot, doctor boyfriend who was criminally good in bed. Nothing this good ever happened to me and I was feeling rather smug, so when Sam asked me to be his date to the annual hospital retreat to Napa Valley I figured it was only a matter of time before things became official. That was how I found myself driving up to Vino Bello at midday on a Friday, freshly waxed, plucked and manicured, with a handsome doctor by my side.

"So are you excited?" I asked as I glanced at him in the mirror. Nervously I ran my tongue over my bottom lip. He was tapping something on his phone.

"Huh?" he replied without looking up.

"The trip," I replied, catching his eye and giving him a brief smile, "Should be fun?"

He seemed distracted; his eyes were again focused on the screen in front of him. I felt something prickle my spine. "Sure," he finally said, giving me one of his trademark 24 karat smiles. And as if to prove his point he reached over and pulled me into a quick kiss, his hand sneaking up my thigh.

"Sam, I'm driving!" I protested as he pulled away.

But really, I didn't mind at all.

* * *

It was dark when we arrived. After checking in we headed straight to our suite where a bottle of champagne quickly shook of any tiredness and we spent the rest of the night rolling around on the high thread count sheets of our king size bed. It was with great difficulty I arose the next morning just as the winter sun was beginning to peek over the horizon.

"Sam," I yawned drowsily – my eyes half opened, "Sam, wake up." His response was a low groan so I quickly jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow.

"Hey!" he cried as he shot up, his floppy blonde hair messy and ruffled.

Shuffling off the bed, I wrapped a sheet around my still naked body, "We have to get ready, the first event starts in an hour."

He raised an eyebrow, "An hour? That's like, so far away-" he gestured with his hand, "We've got lots of time."

Shaking my head I took a step away, "No, I need a shower and-"

With a quick tug he had removed the sheet that was protecting my modesty. He looked up at me with a wicked smile and I could tell what he wanted. "Five minutes."

"Ten," I countered as I hopped back onto the bed and let him have his wicked way with me.

* * *

Only thirty minutes late, we found ourselves tagging onto a tour of the onsite winery. Lots of barrels and dark spaces meant lots of fooling around (and getting caught – twice). The man was insatiable.

Finally we made our way to a long narrow room with an oak bar running its length. The middle aged woman who had apparently been our tour guide began to line up glasses along the bar before uncorking a bottle of Trinitas Chardonnay."Come on ladies and gentlemen, take a glass and try our award winning vintage."

The group surged forward and I went with it, squeezing through to grab two glasses. Reaching between the surrounding bodies, finally my hand clasped around the cold, thin stem of a glass. I began to pull it towards myself when I felt a tug in the opposite direction. My eyes flashed towards whatever was causing this- it was a woman, vaguely familiar, where did I-?

"Jess?" asked the dark haired stranger, tilting her head a little as she spoke.

_Ahhh, _I thought, "Julia." It was more of a statement than an answer and I found myself staring at her until Sam's warm hand grasped my waist. "Sam," I smiled, shaken from my thoughts, "Have you met Julia?"

Sam stepped forward with his usual cavalier swagger and extended his hand, taking hold of Julia's and shaking it firmly, "Enchanted." I was just about to take a little offense at his obvious flirtation with another woman when he appeared. _Him._ Damn Nick Miller.

Holding two glasses of wine, he strode over to join our group, handing Julia one before casually draping his arm across her shoulder. He was wearing what seemed to be one of his trademark plaid flannels; a little rumpled for sure. The stubble he permanently wore was just on the side of acceptable (_did he ever shave_, I wondered). The brief history of our acquaintance flashed before my eyes. I felt myself bristle.

Beside me Sam stiffened. _Of all the people, _I thought as I wrapped by own arm around him and pulled him closer to me, as if trying to protect him.

"What are _you_ doing here?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"He's my guest, Legal was invited this year," Julia answered, turning to give him a small smile.

"Nick," Sam nodded.

"Sam," Nick replied, his lips tight, his chest swelling slightly as he spoke.

A few seconds passed in awkward silence as our strange foursome stood together. Two more glasses appeared on the bar to my right and I passed one to Sam, feeling uncomfortable. Sam however seemed slightly amused, a half smile dancing on his lips.

I tried to make small talk. "So are you staying at the resort?" I asked casually, for some reason noticing Nick's hand on Julia's shoulder. His long fingers curved softly around her - my mind flashed back to the night in the motel we had spent together, I could almost feel his arm around me again, holding me close to him. Quickly I shook the thought away.

"Yeah," he replied catching my eye, "308."

"Oh, we're in 310."

Sam sank the rest of his wine and returned the glass to the bar. "Hey sorry if we kept you up last night – just started dating," he punctuated his words with a cheeky wink and I felt my twirlyness rise.

"That was you?" Nick asked, incredulously.

My cheeks began to heat up - I knew they were turning red. Flashing my eyes upwards, I caught Nick looking at me. His face looked blank - almost empty. My stomach lurched: as though his opinion of me was important for some reason.

"Well now we have established that," Julia said with a terse smile, "I think we ought to get a seat."

"Good idea, we'll join you," Sam added smoothly; I caught his eyes at the same time flashing up and down Julia's shift dress clad body.

"Sam," I whispered, digging my fingers into his hip to get his attention, "Are you sure?"

He turned and looked down, his smile bright and clear, "Absolutely."

* * *

Three wines later, we had somehow agreed to sit with the other couple at the evening's gala dinner. Clearly decisions made under the influence of wine are not always the best.

As we rode the elevator down to the hotel restaurant, I looped my hand around Sam's arm. "Are you sure this is a good idea Sam? I mean, you and Nick-" my face crumpled into a concerned from.

"Babe," he said, stealing a wet kiss from my lips, "I've decided it's time to move on, try and forgive even."

_Aw, _I thought, laying my head on his chest, _handsome, intelligent and mature? _I'd hit the jackpot.

We sat at table 4 and made liberal use of the on table wine. The seats around us began to fill up but two people were missing - Julia and Nick. We were halfway through our appetizer when they sheepishly appeared at the table. Julia's chignon was clearly disheveled and part of his shirt tails were sticking out from his tuxedo pants. I felt myself frown.

"Sorry we're late," Julia giggled (something I was shocked she was capable of), "Um, we had a, um-"

"Button problem," Nick finished. I could see he was trying not to laugh, but seconds later he burst out into a loud guffaw. Julia caught his gaze, placing her hand on his chest and reaching over to give him a slow kiss. The two continued to laugh as they sat. I reached over and placed my hand on Sam's leg, slowly running it higher up his thigh. So it seemed we had entered into some kind of sexual competition. Let the games commence.

* * *

By the time the entrees had been served, we were all fairly well lubricated from the free flowing wine - a happy consequence of holidaying at a winery, I thought through the hazy alcohol mist that seeped into every corner of my mind.

Somehow we had seemed to split into two conversations - Julia and Sam were engrossed in some conversation about medical bills and Nick and I were discussing our shared childhood in Oregon.

"You were such a pain when you were little Jess," he drawled into this glass as the dinner plates were collected.

"Me?" I cried incredulously, taking a sip of my rose, "I seem to remember you taking great pleasure in attacking me with your super soaker at every opportunity."

He smiled at the memory, his hand figuring the thing clear stem of his glass, "Damn I loved that toy."

A look of reflection passed over his face as the memory surfaced, I bit my lip as I watched. He looked so open, so honest - no arrogance or games, quite unlike my first perceptions of him. _Had I been wrong?_

"So, you and Julia…" I asked, my head cocking in her direction, "Things serious?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant but actually I was incredibly curious.

Now the glass was twirling between his fingers, his eyes watching the amber colored wine as it rolled against the soft curve that contained it. Softly, he shrugged. "It's… new," he finally replied.

I nodded a little, unsure what he meant.

"You?" he asked. He didn't say Sam's name but I understood his question.

Waiting for him to look at me I caught his eye, "It's new," I smiled, taking another long sip as I held his gaze. _Dear God was I flirting with him? _I ran a hand through my hair, shaking it through my slightly tangled curls as I watched him digest my words. Sinking back in his chair, a slightly uncomfortable silence seemed to settle - like we'd crossed some kind of unmarked line.

Our moment was ended when dessert arrived - square plates with four small pieces of cake, garnished with fruit appeared in front of us. My eyes widened as I took hold of my fork.

"Honey," came Julia's soft voice from across the table, "Do you want it?" she asked, holding her plate out to Nick.

Confused, my brow furrowed, "Are you full?" I asked, bewildered.

"I'm just not a dessert person," she replied, sliding her plate in our direction, eager, it seemed, to get back to her conversation.

"Wait," I said holding up my hand, "Dessert is the best part."

"Not to me," she chirped, laying her arm across the table as to end the discussion.

Digging into the first miniature piece of cheese cake, I forked the crumbly, creamy dessert into my mouth, letting it's smoothness run over my tongue and down my throat, coating it with sugary goodness.

"Mmmm," I moaned, licking my lips.

"Good?" Nick asked, looking at me with an amused smile.

'Mmm-hmm," I nodded, "How can Julia not be a dessert person?" I didn't wait for a reply as I eased another heaped workload of cake into my mouth.

"She's just like that," he answered, before he joined me in devouring our plates, before we shared Julia's rejected cake.

* * *

Too much wine and a few attempts at dancing had made my head spin and I was unceremoniously placed in bed just before midnight. Sam scooped me up and laid me fully on the covers, quickly peeling away my dress.

"Come to bed," I'd slurred, half asleep.

"Soon babe," he replied, before I heard the door click closed and the weight of the alcohol pushed me into a deep sleep.

It was still dark when I awoke to the sound of a text message. Confused, I sat up. "Sam?" I asked with a croaky voice. I could see the outline of his body beside me, glowing slightly from the light of a mobile phone. "Everything okay?"

Slowly he rolled in my direction, "Babe," he whispered, "It's work. I have to head back, there's an emergency…"

"No… We still have another day-"

He stilled my words by reaching up and giving me a small, wine scented kiss. "Sorry," he replied. His eyes crinkled a little as he smiled at me, "Work comes first. You know that."

With a groan, I lay back as he began to pack his bag. It seemed just a few minutes before he was perched on the bed again, his hand wandering under the bed sheet, cupping my breast. I sank into his kiss, feeling myself buck against him a little. "Mmm, can't you delay your trip by a few minutes…" I gave him my best wide eyed look.

"Sorry," he shrugged, ending with a chaste kiss on my head. "I've already called for a shuttle to take me to the airport. Don't want to leave you here without a car! See you at work on Monday?"

I nodded sadly as he left the room. With a sigh, I flicked off the small lamp that lit the room, enjoying the comforting darkness. But I couldn't help but shake an unsettled feeling as sleep arrived once more.

* * *

My heavy sleep ended when an uncomfortable lurch in my stomach rudely wakened me. It rolled and churned and tossed my belly until I had no recourse but to leap up and make a run for the bathroom - just making it before last night's wine decided to make an unwelcome reappearance.

With a grimace, I flushed away my stomach contents before reaching for my toothbrush; desperate to eliminate the acidic taste in my mouth. I placed a strip of minty cream on my brush, looking at my make up strewn face in the mirror as I brushed. _Hot stuff Day, _I told myself.

Glancing to my right, I saw something peeking out from underneath a towel. _What on Earth? _I snatched away the covering towel. It was a phone. Sam's phone. He must have left it in his hurry to leave earlier.

Now, normally I am not the kind of girl to snoop - can we make that clear? But I had this nagging feeling in my stomach, something that wasn't overly obvious - something a little off. Something that impelled me to grab the phone and stumble back to my bed.

Unlocking the main screen, I went straight to messages - expecting to see the text that had made him leave so quickly. Instead, all I saw was a nameless message saying 'U READY?'. Frowning, I scrolled further down. There was a not a single message from work - in fact his inbox was suspiciously empty.

So who was that message from?

Curiosity got the better of me. Steeling myself, I pressed the dial number button, holding my breath as the phone purred three rings until it was answered.

"Hello?"

With a sharp intake of breath, I pressed the cancel button and tossed the phone to the end of the bed.

_Julia. _It was Julia who answered.

_What the-_

Heart pounding, I tugged on a pair of jeans and t-shirt before I tugged a brush though my hair while I ran to the bathroom to quickly wash my face. There was only one way to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

Before I knew it I was pounding on the door of room 308. Mid-knock, the door opened to a drowsy looking Nick. He was wearing just a frayed t-shirt and a oversized pair of boxer briefs - his hair was sticking out from his head. Part of me wanted to smile.

"What the hell, Jess?" he winced, rubbing his hand over his face. I was glad to see someone else was feeling a little worse for wear.

"Where's Julia?" I asked, pushing past him until I was inside their suite. The room was silent.

"Please, come in," he replied sarcastically as he shut the door, "She had to leave - work emergency."

"She's lying," I retorted, quick as a flash - feeling my stomach contract as my fears seemed confirmed.

His face twisted, he moved into the room - sinking to sit on the bed, his hand still rubbing his face, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Sam told me the same thing and I found his phone and-"

"Look Jessica," he interupted, "That guy is a lying sack of shit who can't be trusted so I'm not surprised if he has spun you some line. But don't try and drag me into your problems-"

Annoyed, I shoved the phone into his face, "Recognize that number?"

His face dropped. "Wait-"

"And I rang it too, it was her. Kinda a big coincidence, huh?"

I felt my blood begin to boil and tears prick my eyes. Although I was still unsure what the hell had gone on, I knew that something had happened. I knew that Sam had lied and I knew my heart was aching.

His face seems to cycle through a hundred unperceptable emotions, until his eyes fixed on mine."I get it. I get it." He shook his head and stood up. "You are jealous. Jealous of what Julia and I have. Huh." He tutted and shook his head.

"What the hell? I'm trying to help you here, Miller!" My anger at Sam began to transpose onto Nick, "Why the hell would I make something like this up?"

With his hands firmly crossed over his chest, he struck a defensive pose.

"Maybe you're jealous."

"_Jealous?_"

I closed the gap between us until we were mere inches apart. My body radiated searing heat.

"Yeah. I know you had a thing for me-"

"As if!" I cried, my chest heaving. "Not in a million years Miller! Especially after Sam told me what you did."

A confused expression crossed his face. He pulled back a little. "What _I _did?"

"Stealing his fiancée! Breaking his heart!" I replied, almost shouting this time. _Why did he make me so mad?_

"Is THAT what he told you?" his head rolled to one side, an amused look on his face. "For the record, it was my fiancée. My heart." His words softened towards the end. It was clear he was telling the truth. I could see the hints of pain in his eyes - they seemed to flicker with something deep inside.

"Oh."

I couldn't think of anything to say in reply.

"I-I-"

"Just go Jess," he replied sharply, not even looking at me.

Silently I left, my mind a confused jumble, my heart racing, my head still pounding.

In the safety of my room I felt tears begin to roll down my cheeks.

Sam was a liar.

Sam was a cheater.

Nick Miller hated me.

This was possibly the worst weekend ever.

* * *

**Again thanks for your patience! Please review if you are enjoying this - I appreciate every single one!**


	5. Stop Change

Sam was everywhere.

For some reason that week the director seemed to need a lot of urgent memos taken down to the wards - who would I invariably see? Him.

Then, parking my car in the lot in the morning, who would I bump into? Him.

Lunch time? Yeah, he'd be in the staff cafeteria. Homemade tuna sandwiches became my lunchtime routine after the fourth day of _that._

It was sickening. Every time I saw him it was like a punch to the gut; my muscles would clench, the bile would rise in my throat. That feeling of betrayal freshening the wound whenever I caught sight of those soft brown eyes.

Of course, we'd never actually talked about what happened. Mysteriously, his phone had flung itself against the wall of my apartment not long after my utterly depressing drive back to LA. The following day I had placed it in the internal mail with a post it note attached saying, 'It's over'. I think he got the point.

Still, I caught his eyes lingering over me whenever we were in the same space - something in his expression showing he perhaps had a little bit of regret about what had happened. And the weak part of me - that sad sappy girl inside who wanted to see the best in everyone - tried to say it was a mistake, maybe I was wrong. Or, even if it wasn't, it was a moment of madness and I could forgive him and we could live happily ever after…

Well, that thought was squashed the day I bumped into him in the hallway outside of gynecology, his hand clamped on the ass of a first year resident. He saw me, my cheeks flamed up and I dove in the first door I could find. A janitor's closet.

Hiding in there, amongst the brooms, mops and the smell of bleach, I decided I had to do something. I couldn't go on playing this dumb game and really - I hated my job. Time to make a change.

* * *

I handed in my two weeks' notice at 3pm on a Friday.

At 5pm I met Cece for a 'few drinks'.

At 3pm Saturday I woke up on her sofa with a banging headache and the stark realization - I needed a new job.

"This is an opportunity Jess," Cece pointed out as I hugged the toilet bowl, "You can finally do something you really want to. Not many people get that chance."

Pulling the toilet handle down, I flipped down the lid and turned to face her. Cece sat perched on the edge of the bathtub, a glass of two fizzing Alka Seltzer in her hand.

"Urgh," I sighed, sitting with my legs crossed on the cold tiled floor, "I really need to start thinking things through before I make decisions like this."

"Hey," she chided, shoving the cold glass into my hands, "Drink. Sleep another couple of hours and then we'll make an action plan."

Nodding, I gulped back the liquid, my stomach gurgling at the new intrusion.

"But you know Jess, what about teaching? You have the qualifications…"

I gave her a little smile. To be honest, I had thought of that. But my degree was now ten years old. Who would hire me? How would I get a job?

"Maybe," I replied with a shrug of my shoulders.

"Atta girl," Cece teased, ruffling my hair a little and reminding me why every girl needs a good girlfriend.

* * *

And, I did get a job.

After a month looking and a big hand out from my mom (which I really don't know when I'm going to be able to pay back).

I was a teacher! Okay, kinda. A teacher's assistant four days a week in a middle school three blocks from my apartment. Big pay cut. Rent would be tight. But I was happy. In a weird way, I was glad Sam had turned out to be such a jerk - the push of my discomfort about being around him had made me make a change.

No longer was I filing reports and typing memos; now my days were spent teaching algebra to twelve year olds and I loved it. Really.

"Jess, you are doing a great job."

I looked up from the coloring pencils I was clearing away. Anne, the class teacher I worked with was smiling at me as she graded a pile of math papers. "Thanks, I'm really enjoying myself."

"Well you certainly have an aptitude, and you're great with the kids."

I felt a swell of pride as I looked at the older woman. Anne had become something of a role model in the three weeks I had worked at Jefferson Middle School - showing me the ropes, encouraging me and laughing with me when I messed up. "I appreciate that. It's been an adjustment, but I think I made the right choice."

"Me too," she replied as she stood up from her desk, "Look, I'm having a dinner party tomorrow night - just some friends, 10/15 people, I'd love you to come."

Arranging the last few pencils in their colored plastic holder, I looked up, "You know - that sounds great. I can't wait."

* * *

I arrived at 7:30 with a bottle of French red and a bouquet of pink peonies and was greeted by Anne who quickly introduced me to her debonair looking husband, Frank. She pulled off my coat and ushered me into the living room. As I stepped inside my mouth became dry.

Dotted around the room were pairs of people - knee to knee on the sofa, side by side at the fireplace - couples. Lots of couples. I felt my stomach sink a little at the sight. Anne pushed me forward and introduced me to the room, "Everyone! This is Jess, my new TA!" A beaming crowd of faces smiled back as me as they were introduced - wives, fiancés, partners. Yes, I was the only single person there it seemed. I gave an awkward smile to the room as Anne fetched me a drink.

"Hi," I mumbled, with a small wave of my hand, ever thankful when a glass of pink wine appeared in front of me.

Now, I have nothing against couples. Couples are great - fantastic even. But they can also be thoughtless when around their single counterparts. And I did not need reminding I was single. I managed to find a space to sit on the edge of the couch next to an eccentric looking couple named Cosmo and Dalma. After a few cursory questions Cosmo dove in for the kill.

"So Jess - are you dating anyone?"

Smiling through gritted teeth, I shook my head and took a sip of wine. "No, not at the moment."

"What? Pretty girl like you? They should be breaking the door down right now!" Cosmo turned to his wife and laughed, as if he had just told the funniest joke in the history of the universe. I sighed and bit my tongue, willing dinner to be ready so I could move. "Seriously sweetheart, you need to do something about that. You don't have forever you know."

"Before what?" I asked sharply, clutching the glass so tightly I was sure it would break if I pressed just a little harder.

"The old clock," he replied, tapping the side of his nose, "Tick tock, Mother Nature doesn't give extra time to the picky!"

Yeah. That's right. I was just picky. Jeez, if only I had worked that out earlier…

"Dinner's ready!" came Anne's soft voice from the other room. Relieved I stood and gave my questioners a quick smile, praying we were not sitting next to each other.

* * *

Thankfully I had been placed in between Anne and her sister Emma, who was also a teacher so we instantly had something to talk about as I eased my way into my second glass of wine. We sat waiting for our appetizer, chatting about general work things when a chorus of hello's rose up from the table. I looked up towards the door - clearly a late comer had arrived - before freezing.

"Nick?" I said, before realizing the words were out of my mouth.

"You know him?" Anne asked, as she stood to greet her guest.

"Uhhuh…" I replied as she walked to the door. Beside Nick stood a beautiful brunette, tall, slender and striking. _I guess he's moved on from Julia already, _I thought absentmindedly.

"Everyone! This is my niece Shane, and she has brought her work friend Nick along tonight!"

"Hi!" smiled the brunette, "Sorry we're late! The bar was pretty busy today!"

The two shrugged off their coats and gave them to Anne. I watched, confused as they sat. He hadn't seen me yet. I had a few seconds to ponder the likelihood of us bumping into each other - again - in a manner like this. It was beginning to feel like some cruel kind of joke, dangling someone in front of me who was privy to some pretty weak moments of mine. The last time I had seen him was fresh in my mind - the way he had talked to me. The fact that I had accused him of breaking up Sam's engagement. I cringed at the memory.

I tried to shrink back in my chair. He was seated almost opposite me at the table, wearing a soft blue and black plaid shirt and three days' worth of stubble. Emma began to talk again and I nodded at the opportune times as I secretly watched him - settling into his seat, shaking hands with those around him. He was smiling. He had a nice smile, I had to admit. Warm and natural. Suddenly he looked up and caught my eye - my breath stopped in my throat. He had seen me. Worse, he knew I was looking at him.

Tilting his head, he narrowed his eyes a little, mouthing my name silently. I merely gave a raise of my shoulder and a smile as my answer, feeling a pleasant warm ripple melt in my stomach as we locked eyes for a second.

* * *

"Penny for your thoughts."

I was in the kitchen, searching for a new bottle of rose in the open refrigerator. Pulling out the wine, I closed the door to see Nick standing behind it, bottle of beer in hand.

"Hi Nick," I smiled, a little awkwardly as I reached for the corkscrew on the kitchen counter to my right. "Surprised to see you here."

"I could say the same," he asked, as he reopened the fridge and pulled out a beer.

"I work with Anne," I told him by way of explanation as I poured myself a new glass.

"Ah," he nodded. I wasn't quite sure what to do - what to say. Do I pretend that our last meeting didn't happen? Make some pleasantries and disappear?

"Jess, I'm sorry about the whole Julia thing. You were right."

"Oh," I said, surprised, "I, um, that's fine. I mean I'm sorry too for what I said about Sam, he lied to me…"

Nick let out a slow breath, "Yeah, he's good at that. But still," he continued resting his hip against the fridge, "I shouldn't take out my frustrations on you. I've actually wanted to say sorry for a while but I didn't think you would want to hear it."

"Seriously, don't worry about it. I'm fine."

"And Sam?" he asked, a curious tone to his voice.

I waved my hand, "Over. Over, over, over."

"Good," he replied softly, gazing at me with a quiet intensity which confused and slightly scared me all at once. This wasn't the Nick I was used to. This wasn't the guy I had met those few months ago.

Emboldened, I asked a question that had lingered in my mind since he had appeared at the table. "So you and-"

"Shane?" he finished, pointing his thumb back towards the dining room where after dinner drinks were taking place, "We work together. She's new, just trying to be friendly and all."

An involuntary smile pulled at my lips. Weirdly, I felt relieved. Relieved that I wasn't the only one still alone - the only one who hadn't found _that thing _yet. And a little part of me felt happy that he - Nick - was in the same boat. I shrugged the feeling away as quickly as it arrived, but it still lingered in the back of my mind.

"So how's life?" he asked, changing the subject as he tossed his bottle cap in the trash.

"Huh," I laughed, "Well, I quit my job. So now I'm a single 32 year old, childless woman who is about to embark on a massive career change and I have no idea what I am doing with my life." I looked up and he had a bemused expression on his face, "Sorry," I added with a crumpled brow, "That was way too much information."

"No," he shook his head, "I admire your honesty. And changing careers? That's tough. And brave."

"Thanks," I whispered. "I just wish I didn't mess things up so much."

Nick took a step toward me. I flinched a little, stepping back against the kitchen cupboard behind me. I held my breath as he picked up the wine bottle to my right, returning it to the fridge. Shutting it softly, I watched as he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth. "You know Jess, you're too hard on yourself. I think you are great. I like you. Just the way you are."

Shyly, my head dropped and a furious blush rose. That was by far the nicest thing that anyone had said to me in a long time and it had come out of the mouth of damn Nick Miller - of all people.

"I'm far from perfect," I muttered in reply, fidgeting on my feet, feeling a tension in my stomach rise as the situation hurtled in an unexpected direction.

"Perfect is overrated," he quipped and I felt my gaze pull up to his. Damn he looked handsome in the dark kitchen. All mussy hair and tawny skin wrapped up in soft flannel that just begged _hug me_.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked without thinking, instantly mentally kicking myself.

He ran a hand through his hair and I saw something flash over his eyes that I couldn't quite place. He was pretty near to me now, less than two feet away. Taking a step closer, I stiffened, feeling myself enveloped by his warm manly smell. The one that took me back to a night in a motel rest stop and the feel of being held tight in those strong arms…

"I can be a nice guy."

It was almost a whisper, so soft that I could almost pretend I hadn't heard it, if it wasn't for his closeness. I could feel his body heat radiating between us, making my skin prickle. The hand that held my glass loosened its grip a little and I started as it began to slip. Then his hand was on top of mine, catching the glass as it fell, brushing over my fingers and making them tingle with electricity for the second they met.

"Thanks," I whispered, moving that tiny amount closer so I could feel his breath on my face and neck. He placed the glass to one side. My head was spinning now - with the wine and his words and his closeness and my own damn confusion. _What was going on?_ I watched him swallow, his eyes darting to my lips briefly. My heart began to pound, filling my ears with a deep thud that drowned out the sounds of the dinner party next door. He reached up and touched my shoulder lightly. I smiled, his touch felt good. Familiar.

_He's going to kiss me_, I thought. _He is going to kiss me_… Achingly slowly, we moved together as if drawn like magnets. Eye, lips, eyes… His lips looked soft and pink and inviting.

_He's going to kiss me_ -

"Nick?"

We jumped apart quickly as the kitchen door opened.

"Nick - what is taking so long?"

It was Shane. The brunette with the never ending legs and the cover girl face.

The spell broke.

"Sorry - just, um," he flashed me a look, a questioning expression on his face, "Catching up."

"Yeah," I nodded, "Catching up."

Shane looked between us, looking slightly bemused, before she seemed to push aside whatever she was thinking and took hold of Nick's arm. "Come on, you need to make me look good in front of my two aunts!"

"Talk later?" Nick asked, as Shane pulled him towards the door.

"Yeah," I replied, downing my glass of wine in one and shaking my head.

_No Jess, no._

_No._

**_Thanks to the wonderful Ztofan for her amazing beta skills._**

**_Sorry (again) this took so long._**

**_Your reviews mean more to me than you could know!_**


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